Just the Wine
by Harmonde
Summary: WA5, Dean/Chuck. "Dean was one of his best friends. One of his best MALE friends. And Chuck did not think that away about his male friends."


Working Title: Just the Wine

Rating: PG (for now)

Disclaimer: Wild ARMs 5 belongs to Media Vision, not me

This is the first part of what will eventually be a much longer fic. I haven't had time to write more due to college demands. Expect the rest to be up sometime this summer.

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The first time Chuck Preston felt attracted to Dean Stark, he told himself it had to be the wine talking.

Of course the presence of said wine was only proper, it being Chuck's twenty-first birthday. On his way back to Capo Bronco to celebrate with his former traveling companions, he realized that he didn't particularly care if he drank or not. After fighting homicidal golems, power-crazed Veruni, and various deadly monsters, the prospect of his first legal drink didn't hold the same thrill as it once had. But when Dean insisted that it wouldn't be a real birthday party if Chuck didn't drink, he knew the night was going to end with him drunk off his ass. Dean was damned persistent, and there was no use refusing him once he got an idea in his head.

"It's your twenty-first birthday; you _have_ to drink!"

"It's no big deal. To be honest, I don't care if I have anything to drink or not."

"It'll be fun - I'll even let you have some of the wine Old Man Tony gave me!"

"But Dean, you've been saving that for when _you_ turn twenty-one. I wouldn't feel right."

"Well, the wine is pretty important to me – and that's why I want you to have some of it. You're my friend and I want to give you something special."

Well, how could he refuse after that? He hadn't, and had proceeded to get good and drunk well before the party was over. He'd even persuaded Dean to try a glass of Johnny Appleseed with him, which the younger boy would have had if his mother hadn't happened to overhear and insist that there was no way her precious Deanie was touching a drop of alcohol until he was twenty-one. To which Chuck replied that you only lived once and that if Dean was capable of saving the world, he was more than capable of having a glass of wine.

It would have been a more convincing argument if he hadn't lost his balance and fallen over immediately after.

Dean was the first one to offer a hand to him, and as Chuck took it he realized just how blue Dean's eyes were. They weren't the same light blue as Avril's eyes or his own; they were much darker, like a pair of sapphires. It wasn't often that you saw blue eyes that dark, and Dean's had a certain sparkle to them –

Chuck gave himself a mental shake, cutting himself off in mid-thought. Where the hell had _that_ come from? Sapphires? Since when did he start thinking that anyone's eyes looked like sapphires, much less Dean's? Besides, Dean was one of his best friends. One of his best _male_ friends. And Chuck certainly did not think that way about any of his male friends.

Well, except for that one time with Kent where they'd been so relieved to see each other alive and Chuck hadn't completely gotten over losing Lucille and Kent had been right there –

_Shut __**UP**__, brain._

Dean was looking at him curiously, unaware of his temporary insanity. Chuck blushed furiously and yanked his hand away. As he'd been in the middle of being helped to his feet, this movement sent him onto his back for the second time that night. One of his feet caught the back of Dean's knee, knocking him off balance. Dean flailed his arms in an effort to stay upright, but ultimately landed right on top of Chuck.

_His eyes really __**do**__ look like sapphires_.

Dean laughed and pushed himself to his feet. "I guess we better be more careful next year, huh?" he said, grinning at Chuck.

"Uh…..yeah." Chuck managed to get to his feet by his own power, making sure to avoid meeting Dean's eyes. It had been the wine. Just the wine. This wasn't the first time he'd ever had wine, but it was the first time he'd actually been drunk. That had to be way he was having such uncharacteristic thoughts towards Dean. After all, he never thought about him like this when he was sober. In the morning he would be back to normal, and he wouldn't think of Dean as anything but a friend.

With this reassurance, Chuck raised his head to smile back at Dean. His stomach flipped as Dean's grin grew wider, but he paid it no mind.

_Just the wine._


End file.
